


Oh, Make Me Over

by FallingLikeThis



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: America's Next Top Model AU, Boys Kissing, Confidence, Crushes, Fluff, Haircuts, M/M, Makeover, Model Harry, Model Louis, pick someone who's supportive
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-09
Updated: 2017-05-09
Packaged: 2018-10-29 18:47:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10859895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FallingLikeThis/pseuds/FallingLikeThis
Summary: It’s only week two of the new British Invasion season of America’s Next Top Model and he’s already got the shakes like it’s the finale. He knows it’s ridiculous, but it’s makeover week and while everyone else is excited about the prospect of a makeover, Harry fears what’s in store for his hair. His lovely, long curls that he thinks are possibly his best asset.  God, what if they bleach them blonde? His mum might not be able to tell him apart from his sister when he comes home. Or worse, what if they cut them off??





	Oh, Make Me Over

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt 6: The ready-for-action feeling after getting a new haircut.
> 
> The title comes from "Celebrity Skin" by Hole.
> 
> Extra special thank you to Michelle for being the best friend and beta I could ask for.

_Breathe_ , Harry reminds himself.

 It’s only week two of the new British Invasion season of America’s Next Top Model and he’s already got the shakes like it’s the finale. He knows it’s ridiculous, but it’s makeover week and while everyone else is excited about the prospect of a makeover, Harry fears what’s in store for his hair. His lovely, long curls that he thinks are possibly his best asset.  God, what if they bleach them blonde? His mum might not be able to tell him apart from his sister when he comes home. Or worse, what if they cut them off??

Harry glances next to him where Louis is standing on his tiptoes trying to pretend he’s taller than he is, standing behind the female models.  Harry didn’t come into this competition to make friends and he certainly didn’t come to fall for anyone but, _fuck_ , he likes Louis so much already. He doesn’t know if Louis likes him the same way but Louis is obsessed with Harry’s curls, what if they make him cut them and Louis doesn’t like him as much without them?

_Breathe._  Harry squeezes his eyes shut. Louis isn’t so shallow that he’d write Harry off if they gave him a haircut. And really, Harry is just trying not to focus on what’s actually bothering him. He doesn’t want to be that one person that cries if they cut his hair. And he might do it. It took him years to grow it to where it is now and he’s finally comfortable in himself, he doesn’t want to upset the delicate balance he’s found.

“Hey,” Louis whispers beside him and Harry feels Louis’ knuckles graze over the back of his balled up fist. “You alright?”

Harry swallows and opens his eyes. He’s not going to let this get in the way of a great opportunity for him. Whatever Tyra decides, Harry will go along with it. He turns to Louis with renewed determination and smiles. It actually sort of feels sincere when he answers, “I’m good.”

“Ok,” Louis eyes him warily, like he doesn’t quite believe him. “Well, I’m here if you’re not. You know that, right?”

Harry’s smile grows at Louis’ words and his fists unclench at his sides, “I know.”

It’s true, too. Harry already knows that there are people in this competition that he can’t trust, but Louis has proven to Harry since day one that he isn’t one of them.

“Models!” Tyra calls, entering the room with a manila envelope in her hands that carried the details of all of their makeovers. “Are you ready for your makeovers?”

The other models shout out their affirmations and Harry lets himself be one of them. He’s still got the shakes a little, but he’s also got Louis by his side and a fierce resolve to see this through.

“Dana, I’m not messing with your length. It frames your face perfectly and even I know not to mess with perfection. However, I am going to change the color of your hair,” Tyra smiles sweetly. “Would you like to know what color you’re getting?”

Dana squeaks out a meek, “yes,” her hands already in her hair like she’s afraid of what Tyra will do to it. Honestly, Harry is a little relieved to know he’s not the only one.

“You are going _fire engine red_ ,” Tyra informs her and several models ‘ooh’ and ‘ahh’ over the decision. Harry’s not sure if Dana is one of them because he’s too preoccupied by the way Louis’ hand has slipped into his, thumb rubbing over the back of his knuckles.

“Don’t be nervous,” Louis whispers into his ear. “Whatever they do to you, you’ll still be gorgeous.”

Harry turns to him, eyes trailing over this amazing boy who barely knows him and still knows how to read him like they were never strangers. “Still not going to win with you in the competition,” he replies with a grin.

Louis’ lips curve into a smirk as he pretends to listen to Tyra giving the other models the details of their makeovers. He shrugs with one shoulder, glancing at Harry and away again. “Well, yeah,” he agrees blithely, “but second place isn’t too bad either.”

Harry chuckles, pinching Louis’ side with his free hand. In Louis’ effort to get away he releases Harry’s hand and Harry is a little sad about it but Louis’ laughing and smiling at him and that’s almost just as good.

“Harry,” Tyra calls, breaking the two of them out of their playful bubble and bringing Harry back to the present. “You have this amazing face that gives me a flashbacks to the heartthrobs in films from the 1940’s. You would make a handsome soldier in a film I’d bet. So, we are cutting off those pretty curls and giving that stunning face a chance to shine.”

Harry bites his bottom lip but nods along to Tyra’s plan. It’s what he was afraid of but at least he’s not surprised. Lost in his own thoughts, he doesn’t even hear her plans for Louis’ makeover but, a few minutes later, when he resurfaces Louis doesn’t seem bothered, so Harry assumes his makeover isn’t that bad.

 

*

 

“Are you ready for this?” Tyra asks with a grin once Harry is in the chair, stylist behind him with scissors at the ready.

“No,” Harry laughs. It’s a nervous laugh and Tyra can tell.

“It’s just hair. It’ll grow back,” Tyra tries to reason but there’s really no need. He’s going to do it whether he’s ready or not. He’s not going home over something like this.

“I know,” Harry is quick to agree. “I’m not trying to give you a hard time. I’m gonna do it. Um, just… can I ask what you’re going to do with it?”

“Your hair?” Tyra asks, making sure she knows what he’s asking.

“Yeah.”

“Well, we’re are definitely cutting enough of yours off to donate to charity.”

“Locks of Love?” Harry asks. He’s heard a lot about that one, how they make the hair into wigs for kids that have lost theirs.

“Oh no,” Tyra shakes her head, face stern in her denial of the charity. “Don’t get me wrong, they’re great. But the majority of their wigs are sold. All of the hair we donate goes to charities that _give_ their wigs to children.”

Harry likes the sound of that, knowing that by doing this, he’s also helping someone else and it’s not costing them anything. He was actually going to request it if there wasn’t already a plan in place to donate his hair.

“That’s wonderful. Okay,” He turns to face the mirror in front of him, offering the stylist the best angle for cutting. “Let’s do this.” He’s really ready now.

Tyra smiles and squeezes his shoulder, turning to tell the stylist exactly what she wants as the man braids Harry’s curls to get the most off in one solid chop.

 

*

 

_Breathe._

Harry opens his eyes and stares at his reflection in the mirror. He honestly doesn’t know what to think of the man blinking back at him. On one hand, he thinks he looks very nice. It’s just such a different image than the one he’s used to seeing. His eyes are definitely easier to admire now, the green of his irises popping in a way it didn’t before. He actually feels lighter somehow, almost free in a way, and ready for anything.

“Looks great,” he praises his stylist with a slow grin. “Thank you.”

 

*

 

Louis looks amazing. Harry was definitely wrong because he isn’t ready for this. They must have given Louis extensions because his hair is a little on the long side now. Well, long for _Louis_. It’s pushed back into a quiff as he poses for his shots for their “After” shoot and Harry thinks he looks absolutely delicious. He can’t stop staring really.

His hands keep moving to run through his hair, a thing he does when he’s nervous, but he knows he’ll get yelled at if he messes up the styling. Luckily, he’s slotted to go next but there’s no way he’s going to be able to compete with Louis. He’s doing everything right. Even the photographer is practically drooling. Not that Harry can blame him.

Harry balls his hands into fists as Louis’ eyes catch his, and he smolders directly at Harry.

“Yes!” The photographer loves it. “You’re too sexy for the camera!”

Harry bites back a laugh because that’s one of the cheesiest things he’s ever heard. He can see Louis’ slipping too, an almost smile ruining his smolder. Harry sticks his tongue out at him and Louis must take that as a challenge, left eyebrow rising minutely before he slips a smirk into place to disguise his grin.

If Harry didn’t know better, he’d think the photographer was having an orgasm the way he raves over it.

It doesn’t take long for Louis to run out of frames but there are plenty of amazing shots on his film, Harry is certain, so he isn’t worried about his friend/crush going home this week. He can’t exactly say the same about himself as an anxious swarm butterflies erupts in his belly.

Harry allows himself to be directed where to stand and then the photographer sets up his first shot. He tries to smolder but somehow he doesn’t think it’s working.  Especially not when the photographer starts yelling at him to “give me _life_ ”.

Honestly, he’s trying. It’s just that Harry’s so nervous. He knew how to work his hair when it was curls down to his shoulders but he hasn’t had hair this short since he was fourteen. It’s like he’s in new territory all over again.

A glance off to the side reveals that Louis has stuck around to watch him. Harry quickly looks away again, butterflies working up a frenzy that his crush is standing there, staring at him fail. He throws back his shoulders determined to do better and looks back at Louis, preparing to return the favor from Louis’ shoot and hit the other man will all the sexual tension he can muster. Only, his gaze catches on Louis’ lips. They’re moving, forming the words ‘ _absolutely gorgeous_ ’ as he stares at Harry. He adds a wink for good measure and Harry is blushing, looking down at the floor with a smile that he can’t keep in check.

“YES!” The photographer screams enthusiastic about Harry’s performance for once. “I love this. This demure, sweet creature. Give me more.”

Harry raises his eyes and directs his smile at Louis, hoping his gratitude can be seen clearly in his eyes. He’s suddenly got the confidence he needs to do this. He’s ready. He looks into the camera and gets to work.

 

*

 

It comes as no surprise to Harry when Louis wins best photo for the week. What _is_ a surprise is how close Harry came to overtaking him. His best photo is the one that was taken right after he saw Louis mouthing those words to him. Apparently, everyone loves the shy, “sweet creature” that was captured in that moment.

“I knew you’d look amazing with that haircut,” Tyra smiles as she passes him his photo. “Congratulations, you’re still in the running to become America’s Next Top Model.”

“Thank you,” Harry tells her with a smile that mirror the one in the photo as he takes it and moves to stand next to Louis while the other models learn their fate.

When Harry gets to his spot, Louis leans into him. “I knew it, too,” he whispers.

Harry looks over at him, fluttering in his belly once more, and winks. “Ditto,” he whispers back.

They’re quiet while the rest of the models join them in line until there’s just one model standing in front of Tyra, tears in her eyes because her hopes of winning the competition are dashed. Everyone moves to give the young girl, Emory, a massive group hug. And then it’s over, and they’re heading back to the Top Model house. Another week over.

Louis finds Harry after dinner, standing in the living room, studying the shot of Louis that won for the week.

“Should be you up there, if you ask me,” Louis says, moving to stand beside him.

“I didn’t though,” Harry teases, still staring at the photograph. “No. The right person won.”

“You getting sappy on me now, Styles?” Louis asks, elbowing Harry in the side.

Harry turns to him, ignoring the literal ribbing entirely. “Yes,” he answers earnestly, reaching out to grasp Louis’ hand by his delicate fingers. “Please tell me if I’m reading this wrong,” he says studying Louis fingers, lifting his gaze to Louis’ eyes as he finishes, “I really hope I’m not though.”

“Reading what wrong?” Louis asks sounding a bit breathless as he stares back at Harry. He hasn’t pulled his hand away, which Harry takes as a good sign. He runs his free hand through his hair and doesn’t fail to notice Louis’ eyes follow the movement, tongue flicking out to lick his lips as his gaze descends on Harry’s mouth.

“Louis, can I kiss you?” Harry asks, feeling more sure himself now than he ever has before.

“ _God_ , please,” Louis whispers with a shaky little nod, like he’s been waiting for this moment and now he can’t really believe it’s here.

Harry releases Louis’ hand to raise both of his to Louis’ face, cupping his jaw and gently drawing him closer until their mouths meet. A soft press of lips becomes something much deeper as Louis opens his mouth to Harry. He sucks tenderly on Louis’ lower lip before moving to let his tongue delve into Louis’ mouth.

“Mmhh,” Louis grunts softly, hands on Harry’s waist, fingers curved into his sides as though Louis wants to pull him even closer but isn’t allowing himself.

Harry wonders at this moment. If he hadn’t cut his hair, if he hadn’t been intimidated by Louis’ beauty and his sudden lack of confidence, if Louis hadn’t been unendingly supportive, they might not be here right now. The photographer and everyone at the judges’ panel had it all wrong. Harry is not the sweet creature they were looking for, Louis is.  And to think, it all started with a teeny, little haircut. Who knew that such a seemingly mundane thing could lead your life in such exciting directions?

As it is, Harry and Louis have at least one more week together. Harry knows they both have it in them to make it all the way to the end, and Harry, for one, is ready for action.

If the way he tugs Harry by the hand into one of the bedrooms is any indication, Louis is too.

 

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was written as part of an ongoing challenge. We each select random numbers and are given a specific emotion from the book 1000 Feelings For Which There Are No Names. To read the other fics written in this challenge, [click here](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/ShortFic_Challenge_For_Which_There_Is_No_Name/works), or you can find the masterpost on tumblr [here](http://lululawrence.tumblr.com/post/159679804243/1000-feelings-for-which-there-are-no-names-prompt).
> 
> Here's a rebloggable fic post if you liked it: [Oh, Make Me Over](http://suddenclarityharry.tumblr.com/post/160481886630/oh-make-me-over-fallinglikethis-zayniam).


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